


Mine

by AudreyRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Implied Relationships, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyRose/pseuds/AudreyRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock goes into heat while on a case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

Sherlock's eyes widen a moment, his ears straining to hear _something_ anything even. His skin feels too tight and he can't breathe. His legs strain to keep him upright but he just wants to drop to his knees, to _find_ someone _anyone_ who will make this feeling stop. Sudden near violent cramps make him wince and his knees nearly buckle. He blinks and realizes he's trapped, that there is only one door and that it's clicked shut behind him.

He hears a familiar voice chuckle, he wants to turn his head to see but it's too dark to make out anything other than a shape. He swallows thickly, he can't move and the room feels like its closing in on him. The gasp that he registers, he realizes is his own as he's pressed roughly against the wall, breath hot on his neck. How did he let this happen? How had he fallen behind on his suppressants? _John, help me._

"Seems like I've won this hand, doesn't it?" that teasing voice makes the detective shiver and attempt to struggle. The scent that surrounds him is all wrong, too sharp and smelling of tainted blood with a hint of alcohol and grass. _Not John_ , is all his mind supplies as a gloved hand tangles in his hair, yanking his head back painfully. "Oh dear me, someone isn't paying attention, is he?" the breath is hot and moist as is the tongue that darts out over the shell of his ear.

His mind screams at him to fight, that this is wrong, _dangerous_ , but his body is protesting and arching into the touch. A pained whimper leaves his lips and another chuckle leaves those lips. He tries to think, _remember_ , a hint of a familiar scent, soft hair and the lingering taste of tea. _John_ , and he realizes he must have spoken out loud when that amused chuckle turns into bitter laughter. His face is slammed against the wall and he sees lights behind his eyes.

"I'm afraid that _John_ isn't here right now," he hisses, pressing against Sherlock's back. "Has your pet ruined you that much? Has he," and he stops, feels the criminal shift and breathe in his scent. "Oh, oh, oh this is too good, the great Sherlock Holmes reduced to nothing but a whimpering, whining mess?" and he can practically see that maniacal grin on his face. He forces his eyes shut, trying to even out his breathing as he tries to form his thoughts.

"A-ah even you h-had to k-know," Sherlock is shaking, his body wants him to submit, to bow and present. "H-he knew from the start," and John had, that's why he liked the doctor, he didn't try to hold him back or be traditional because he knew that wasn't who he was. A violent shiver ran down his spine and he gasped, knees buckling as another cramp wrecked through his form. "A-are you that, dull?" he knew it was dangerous, taunting the brown eyed criminal in his current state, but he couldn't stop.

A growl passed Moriarty's lips, the grip in his hair tightening again, drawing a gasping whimper. "Oh, no, Sherlock, you see, I have the upper hand, do you know why?" he sounded so satisfied with himself and it sent both cold dread and hot want to the pit of his stomach. "I'm going to make you mine, willingly or not, I'm going to take you right here on your hands and knees," he purred, free hand moving around Sherlock's body as he mouthed behind his ear. "I'll mate you, and leave you bleeding."

The words both thrilled and terrified the brunette, made him want to struggle and submit in the same breath. "You'd like that though, wouldn't you? To take my knot and not be able to do anything about it? You'll beg for it, plead for me not to stop," fingers covered in leather slip into his slacks and a high keening cry passes the consulting detectives lips. "Oh yes, look how much you want it," the fingers tightened around him before moving down to push into him.

"You need me, don't you Sherlock? Tell me you need me."

"Please," is the pathetic whimper that passes his lips. He pushes his hips down as a second is added, the hand in his hair moving to push his slacks down. "I need it, please," he feels pathetic, but he's beyond caring. But even in the back of his mind he hears that little voice hissing at him, telling him to fight. _John, John will find you._

"Mine."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Sherlock fic I'm posting on here and I'm quite happy with it (which never happens with anything I write in this fandom), I may work on a little sequel to this at some point but who knows when that will happen. I'd like to hear feedback gives you all cookies*


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